'Mankio Vor'

-Brian Mendonca

If you step into the Panjim fish market on a Friday at 8 a.m. you see a burgeoning stream of buyers. Looking for that prized fish which will meet their budget, they scan the displays the vendors have placed to entice their clients.

Far from the tantalizing shapes, smells, and sizes of fish that end up on your plate in some swish joints, to see the fish in the raw is a bit bone-chilling. There they lie, fresh from the waters, some twitching as they gasp for life. The crabs particularly show a lot of mettle as they extend their claws desperately for some means of escape from the plastic containers which imprison them.

As the sun climbs, vendors look to make brisk business, calling out their fish by their Konkani names as you pass by. Bangde (mackerel), bangulo (small mackerel), visvon (kingfish), pamplet  (pomfret), sunkta (prawns), khube (cockles), tisreo (clam), tarle (sardines), lepo  (sole) and vellio (sardines) are all there for the asking.

As I entered the market my eyes were glued to a crate of specimens which was being measured out into another vessel. Whitish and veiny the prawn-like fish had a sac-like casing. I asked what fish it was and was told that it was mankio (squid).

Just behind the fish market, on a raised platform, sit the sellers of poultry, beef and mutton. Once the hens, and goats are killed, grimy labourers with sacks on their heads carry out the bloodied carcass – or string it up on hooks.

No children can be seen, for they are safely at school. This spectacle of gore is best left to people who can stomach it.

Though the vendors sitting beside the main lanes in the fish market get the most views by the buyers, the sellers who sit on the fringes ply their trade on their mobile phones. On a stool - so difficult to come by here – a middle-aged gent is scribbling something in a small notebook amidst the pandemonium. Others peer into mobile phones dissolutely.

Most of the ladies who sell the fish are large – understandably because they spend the day sitting. Young, wiry, youth also sell the fish and promote their catch. Gents seem more comfortable with the lads who sell the fish – striking up a conversation with them - while the ladies are more comfortable with the female fish vendors.

A great place to bump into friends, the fish market is full of energetic souls who are up early to do the shopping for the house. I was delighted to meet Francis who I had been meaning to call. He gave me some useful tips on how to organize the house party at the weekend.

As I make my way outside, opposite the fish market, I come across the silent ruins of an old two-storied bungalow.  Its garden littered with refuse, the crumbling balconies, the entrance arches, and the broken glass panes on the busy General Costa Alvares Road, are in stark contrast to the clamour of the fish market. 
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Published in Gomantak Times, Weekender, Panjim, Goa on Sunday, 1 March 2020.  Photos (top) Vendor at Panjim fish market; (below) Ruined house opposite the Panjim fish market on General Costa Alvares road. Both photos taken by Brian Mendonca on 10 January 2020. 

Comments

Francis Vaz said…
Thanks Doc for the reference... As always I like the pace of your piece. Easy reading and very introspective.